I'll Keep Watch
by SiofraPrince
Summary: AU. Simple things can change the course of the universe; screwing with Fate and giving a big F*** YOU! to Destiny. The arrival of Professor Prince during 1991 is one such thing.


**Okay! Quick oneshot, while I'm working on "For There to be Light" and "Curious Case", keep an eye out for the next chapters. Read and Review!**

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He was eleven when Professor Prince replaced Professor Binns as the History of Magic teacher, and he was smitten instantly. She had raven black hair that twisted and curled its way down her back, and eyes of the darkest blue that he could have drowned in forever. His eyes weren't the only ones that trailed after her, and his mouth wasn't the only one that salivated whenever she swayed into the classroom.

Her lessons were fun and exciting, and there was a joy, a passion to her teaching that made everyone sit up and listen to what she was saying.

The teachers seemed to be in love with her as well. McGonagall would smile at her, Pomfrey would laugh, Vector, Babbling and Sinistra would giggle with her like adolescent schoolgirls, Hagrid would talk animatedly with her about whatever creature he found, Flitwick would debate with her endlessly, Trelawney would ignore her, and even Filch would give her a jerky half-nod and Pince would whisper to her in a friendly manner.

Dumbledore would look thunderous when he thought no one was looking, and it was clear to see why after January and February passed.

Professor Snape was…happy. It wasn't an uncommon sight to see the two walking down the hallways, discussing topics that sent Granger scurrying to the library to research, or both gesturing animatedly with their hands in the Great Hall during a meal as they argued.

He watched as she fussed over Snape after they'd battled a troll in the corridor, ignoring his batting hands and digging her wand into a leg wound, chanting.

He witnessed her smash the glass of the Mirror of Erised with her fist to stop Quirrell from stealing the stone for Voldemort.

He watched as Snape fussed over her in return, picking the glass out with tweezers with an exasperated look on his face, as if it had happened often.

He saw the fleeting expression of anger mixed with disbelief and pity as Gryffindor snatched away what should have been a Slytherin victory in the last seconds, and he witnessed the daggered glare she sent towards Dumbledore.

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He was twelve when he observed her flatten Lockhart at the duelling club for making nasty comments towards Snape. Lockhart had made the mistake of taking her as a insipid follower of his, and had, rather jovial for someone who was currently receiving death glares from the fair professor, commented that he had a brand of shampoo that could 'fix poor Severus' hair in no time at all'. He spoke in gibberish for a week, before she was forced to remove the spell.

He observed the fluctuating colours of her face when she saw Mrs Norris, and she'd pulled her down from the wall, tenderly hugging the petrified cat to her chest. When Filch came around the corner, she pulled him into a hug once he'd seen his cat, to the shock of all the students that had gathered.

He witnessed a truly magical moment when both Prince and Snape gave Malfoy a month's worth of detentions for saying 'mudblood'. The fact that they'd said it at the same time, in the same tone of voice was hilarious. Malfoy's face was priceless.

He was relieved when she interrupted his detention with Lockhart to drag him back to Gryffindor tower before curfew, instructing him to never spend more time than necessary with Lockhart.

He was in awe when she figured out that it was a basilisk that was the monster.

He was shocked when he found out that Ginny Weasley was behind the attacks, after being possessed by a diary.

He was struck dumb when she screamed a word, and the Chamber erupted into flames, killing the basilisk and the diary.

His face betrayed his shock when Professor Snape Apparated into the Chamber, right before she collapsed, catching her before she hit her head on the stone floor.

He rubbed his eyes and thought that he was dreaming when he saw her at the end of year feast, punching Lockhart in the face for trying to molest a seventh year.

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Everyone was thinking it, she just did it.

To cheering and applause.

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He was thirteen when she sat with them on the Hogwarts express, talking to a worn man in shabby robes with a smile on her face.

He didn't see her Patronus, but Neville told him in between feeding him chocolate that it had been a big cat of some kind; a leopard or something, that had sent the Dementors fleeing off the train and out into the night.

He applauded with her when the new Defence teacher, Remus Lupin, was announced. Professor Snape looked resigned, but didn't look overly upset about missing out on the spot.

He witnessed her rage when she discovered the ripped up portrait of the Fat Lady, and protested vehemently about placing all the students in the Great Hall for the rest of the night.

He was gratified when her Patronus saved the life of Sirius and himself, and he watched her argue and steamroll Fudge into giving Sirius a trial, and that as Heiress of House Prince, she would vouch for his innocence.

He was slightly intimidated when she spoke with Sirius, telling him in no uncertain terms that he'd better be telling the truth, because they'd be using Veritaserum, and she'd just staked her House reputation on it and she had no desire to be seen as a fool.

He was gratified when she sat down with him and explained that, because Remus put students at risk, he was banned from entering Hogwarts unless in times of desperate need. He was upset, but he realised that it was the better alternative to being executed.

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He was fourteen when she cursed a Durmstrang student who was forcing himself upon a third year, eyes cold as he writhed on the floor, screaming for mercy, while her other arm held the third year close.

He was amazed at her ire towards the judges when they decreed the first task a secret.

He was surprised when she entered the room when the other Champions were with their family, and gave him a hug, a whispered ' _I know how it feels'_ echoing in his brain for the rest of the night. She'd stayed with him for the rest of the day, and he'd felt like he'd had a family; an older sister or an aunt whom had come to visit. He only wished that Remus hadn't been banned from school grounds and Sirius wasn't so affected by the Dementors that he needed to be hospitalized.

He had been impressed when she all but screamed at the judges for endangering a rare species for _sport_ and _entertainment_.

He'd been grateful when she'd taught him how to dance, and given him advice on who to take to the Yule Ball.

He spotted the tattoo in a strange script on her left shoulder blade as she danced with a blonde Professor from Durmstrang, and knew instinctively that Professor Snape had a matching one on his back.

He watched, shivering, as she scolded the judges for using hostages in the second task without parental permission and the proper safety measures in place.

He was indebted to her when she held him as he cried after the disastrous Third Task. No one had ever offered him non-judgemental comfort before.

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He was immensely grateful when she sent him letters from his friends by Muggle Post, and answered his questions about homework, against Dumbledore's orders.

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He was fifteen when Umbridge walked into her lesson and insulted her. She was called a filthy half-breed, a mudblood, and every racial insult under the sun, as well as a few other ones that alluded to her heritage being lesser than Muggles and her being the teacher's personal whore. Professor Prince was crying, while the rest of his classmates sat in their seats, shocked, when Umbridge had finally finished, and slapped Professor Prince, spitting at her feet. Prince ran out of the classroom, her sobs echoing down the hall.

Umbridge was the most hated teacher in the school, and it hadn't been a month.

He watched the Marauder's Map with Neville, and searched for her name when the other Gryffindor's reported that she hadn't shown up for classes.

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He watched as Professor Snape stormed into the Great Hall during dinner, his magic roiling around him, wand spitting black and red sparks, and backhanded Umbridge across the face, streaks of blood a stark contrast to her suddenly pale skin.

He heard him issue a formal duel in retribution for slights against Professor Prince, and by extension, his patron house; the Most Ancient and Most Noble House of Prince, and stipulated that the duel to be to the death.

He saw McGonagall silence Dumbledore before he could protest the violent action.

He felt every student baying for the blood of Umbridge, and found he did not care.

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He watched in detached horror as Snape slit her throat after torturing her extensively, a satisfied smile on his face.

He watched as Professor Prince, with red-rimmed eyes and salt-stained cheeks, dipped her hands in Umbridge's blood, and drew three rune's on Snape's face; Eiwaz for Death, Algiz for Divine Protection, and Teiwaz for Victory. Forehead, left cheek, right cheek.

He watched as Snape knelt before her, and she placed a hand on his head, chin lifted high. He felt as though he'd just witnessed something significant, or intensely private.

He was relieved when she summoned Sirius' robes from the Veil, Sirius still within them. He had already lost one father, he didn't want to lose another so soon.

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He saw her fleetingly as she joined in Order meetings, and she'd hidden all the alcohol in the house so that Sirius couldn't find it. He drank far too much, complaining that he was cold, and she gave him hand-knitted socks with warming charms embedded into the wool. Sirius kissed her on the cheek, and she blushed. Snape glared.

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He was sixteen when she left the school, citing family reasons, leaving them with a strange witch who had bad hygiene and a nasally voice. He didn't see much of her that year; only once a month, when she'd come and visit the Professors, or even speak to the older students about their options for when they left school. He found that he missed her.

He heard her and Snape argue once, while he was on Prefect Patrol, and sorely wished that he could have been Obliviated, if only to eradicate the harsh words and bitter secrets that each had spilled to each other on the cold winter's night.

He was surprised when she showed up to the cave when he and Dumbledore were there, berating Dumbledore for drinking the potion instead of neutralizing it, pulling out a diadem, a locket, a cup, a ring and a frozen snake before destroying the lot with Fiendfyre, summoning a House Elf to take them back to Hogwarts.

He gaped when she beheaded Greyback after he attacked Bill Weasley, and deflected a curse meant for Draco Malfoy onto a thickset Death Eater who screamed in agony before dropping dead. She was fluid in all her spellcasting, her duelling a deadly dance, and he was mesmerised by her movements.

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He saw her when they were evacuating him from the Dursley's, talking softly to a weeping Petunia, and a comforting hand on her shoulder. Petunia said something back, and she pulled her into a tight hug, ignoring Uncle Vernon's spluttering and Dudley's whining about having to move house so suddenly.

He acknowledged her sly wink with a grin, and she gave him a letter from Sirius and Remus, before taking off, adjusting the replicated glasses zipping up the identical jacket to his, before she, now him, shot into the sky on a black broom, followed closely by Charlie Weasley, cackling madly as the second Weasley whooped loudly while they executed aerial stunts that made Harry feel ill watching them.

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He was seventeen when she stormed Malfoy manner and rescued them, killing six Death Eaters, sparing the Malfoy's, and whisking Luna away to a safe house.

He watched as she summoned Fred out from underneath a collapsing wall, Fred only getting a mild concussion for his troubles. The Death Eater wasn't so lucky.

He watched as she screamed in denial when Professor Snape's bruised, broken and bloody body was tossed in between the two sides like a sack of potatoes, and glistening diamonds dropped from her face.

He watched as she fought Voldemort tooth and nail to avenge the fallen, coming out victorious as she sliced off his head with a hunting knife while her wand cast _Incendio_ at the same time.

He watched as she knelt next to the body of Snape and ran her fingers though his hair, sobbing, ignoring the strange and disbelieving looks she got from everybody.

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He saw her take his pulse.

He saw her double take.

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He heard her scream for Narcissa Malfoy as she stemmed the sluggish blood flow from his neck, and wave her wand in a dizzying sequence of runes, patterns and figures so fast that it was a blur.

He watched as she sat a silent vigil beside his hospital bed, joined by the two remaining Malfoy's, a few Death Eaters that had defected, and a mix of students from upper years and lower years of all houses. She remained at his side, constant and steady.

He watched as she pushed her food around her plate, not really eating, from her place in between Fay Dunbar and Luna. Both girls were pressed close to her, and she would occasionally stroke their hair in reassurance.

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He saw her head snap up a moment before a figure leaned against the doors of the Great Hall, and silence fell.

He watched as she launched herself at a groggy Professor Snape, who had pulled on a pair of _jeans_ underneath his hospital gown.

He watched as they both smiled without restraint, the shadows gone from both of their faces, and the Hall seemed to light up with their combined joy, as she pulled Snape into a tight hug that spoke more of her relief than words ever could.

He watched Snape embrace her back, just as tightly, and shed a few tears that soaked into her t-shirt.

He watched them stand there, entwined like two lovers he knew them to be not, as still and pale as a Greek statue of old, basking in _life_.

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He was eighteen when she left.

Others came for them; tall as Snape, slender as she was, with his nose, her hair, their cheekbones, similar smiles and the same noble bearing. Both were embraced, kissed, hugged, smothered and held close, a lilting language falling from hereditary thin lips in dulcet tones.

He stood and watched as Luna, Fay, Morag McDougal, a few older Ravenclaws and many others that had similar features with a few differences joined them.

He stood between them and the Aurors when they came to arrest them both for using Unforgivables.

He was dragged into the family (for how could they be anything else?) by Luna and Fay, strange voices welcoming him, hands and arms and chests pressing against his own.

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He watched the eyes of his ex-Professors, seeing in them a light that had been missing while at Hogwarts.

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He saw Professor Snape smile, and whisper into her ear.

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' _I love you, my sister.'_

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 ** _Tada! Review please; feed the box!_**

 ** _Cheers,_**

 ** _Siofra_**


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